Twelve White Butterflies
by Yugao
Summary: JinJulia oneshots. Twelve White Butterflies: I did it because I hoped you would be back.
1. Sweet Pain

**_Twelve White Butterflies_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**I'm in a one-shot mood, so I decided to start a collection of Jin/Julia one-chapter stories, each with its own plot and not necessarily in order. Here's number one: _Sweet Pain._

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.

* * *

"_You don't know what you do to me when you look at me that way."_

_

* * *

**One… Sweet Pain**_

Julia ducked one of Jin's high kicks, no more than a blur of royal blue with red flames. She countered with a right hook, which he parried. Each move he made was liquid, graceful, and impeccably timed.

He brought her back from her reverie with a thunder god-fist to her gut, sending her back a few paces. She chanced a look at his face, part of it covered by his hood. She caught a glimpse of his brown eyes, set with a glare.

She felt her heart break just a little, but she ignored it.

She had had her heart broken too many times. She knew the feeling well and didn't have to be reminded.

Yet she couldn't help wanting to tell him. _You don't know what you do to me when you look at me like that._

Julia countered with a punch, low kick and dropkick combo. He fell to the ground, but before she could feel any sort of triumph he rolled back up and delivered an uppercut, which she deflected easily.

He smirked. She saw this because when he stood back up, his hood fell back. Her breath almost caught in her throat. It was the closest thing to a smile she had seen him wear. … Or perhaps, she had wished to see him wear.

Lightning-fast, Jin grabbed her by the shoulders, lifted her up into the air and threw her back down, face-first. She was too stunned by his speed to immediately get back up.

"Something wrong, Julia?" he said with a grin. It wasn't as pleasant as she would've thought it to be – it wasn't a smile of joy, but a smile of bitterness. For a moment she was tempted to press her face back into the mud and die.

But that wasn't what she was taught to do. That wasn't her intention.

She stood, not only to preserve whatever shreds of pride she had left, but also to continue the fight for her mother, and for her home, Arizona.

"No, nothing's wrong," she answered as she hit his jaw in a forward kick. He staggered just a little, refusing to let the pain show. He was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve… or anywhere visible, for that matter.

Julia turned to her defense to shield herself from his quick attacks. He threw a punch to her right shoulder – her left hand caught his fist just in time. She kicked him around the ankles, but a sidestep saved him from that. In that moment, they were of one mind.

He took the wind out of her with a tackle, forcing her to the ground again as he straddled her, landing lefts and rights to each cheek. Her face's only protection was her hands, bruised and almost broken from his hard blows.

He stood, and she struggled to get up and answer his challenge. Her stomach ached, and one arm rested on it as the other leaned against the ground to give her leverage to stand. Her hair was in disarray, now, and her face flushed with the exercise. She gazed at him, and noticed that he seemed completely unfazed.

She grunted with the effort of pushing herself up on her feet. They were numb and seemed disinterested in helping her win the fight. But she willed them to help her stand. _Help me, _she told them, _Just this one last time. _

In a rush of renewed energy, she leapfrogged over Jin and caught him in a head scissors. Perhaps he anticipated it, because he reversed it into a hard slam onto her back. She cringed with the pain on her back, neck, and stomach. Her hands were sore and her arms and legs cramped and numb.

She lay on her back, trying not to cry, though her eyes were already welling up with tears. She heard the referee call it a KO.

"Round 8, Iron Fist Tournament 5," the announcer called out, "Jin Kazama versus Julia Chang. The winner: Jin Kazama!"

_So close, _she mouthed, _so close. _

_I'm sorry, Mom. I couldn't do it for you._

"Hey," she heard someone whisper.

She opened her eyes, and Jin was there, his face no less surly, but his hand reached out towards her. She was pleasantly surprised by the gesture, and took it. His grip was tight around her hand, squeezing the nearly broken bones more than she would have liked. But he had helped her to her feet.

Julia looked up into his eyes, and there she thought she found a ghost of a smile.

**_Author's Note: _**What do you think? Please review, I loved writing this!


	2. Shower of Stars

**_Twelve White Butterflies_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed _Sweet Pain. _Here comes the second: _A Shower of Stars, _inspired by the meteor shower on the 21st of April. Enjoy!

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.

* * *

"_Have you ever had a wish come true?"_

_

* * *

**Two… A Shower of Stars**_

The sky was a dark gray, not quite black, sprinkled with twinkling stars. The moon was wan and shed very little light on the hillside an hour away from the city. Still, the two people who sat under the evening sky saw each other illuminated by the little fire they had made, both to keep them warm and to give them light.

The young woman, who for all this time had been pacing, sat down on the blanket beside her companion. She shivered in the night's chilly breeze, though she was dressed in a denim jacket and a pair of denim jeans, clothes likely to withstand the evening's mild coldness. With a gloved hand, she propped her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. She smiled a little, giving her honey brown a little more glimmer.

The young man beside her tore his intense brown eyes from the dancing flames to look at her. His features – dark hair, deep brown eyes, and well-toned muscles – seemed to be sculpted with cruel perfection. As perfect as they seemed, though, they were devoid of any emotion. As he turned to look at her, a little hint of a smile tugged at the end of his mouth.

"How did you force me to agree to come here with you?" he asked quietly.

She feigned hurt. "I never _forced _you. I merely… insisted."

His smile widened, a rare occurrence when it came to him. "Then how did your insistence make me agree to come here with you?"

"I don't know," she said in a whisper, as one does in the dark. "Maybe you wanted to come with me. Maybe you wanted to spend an evening away from the busy streets of Tokyo. Maybe… you wanted to come here and make a wish."

He leaned back, his gaze now to the sky. She had invited him to come with her, and she knew he couldn't resist a chance to get away from everything. She knew he was always troubled in the Mishima Zaibatsu, and it was the perfect opportunity to leave his cares behind.

"_A meteor," Julia explained a little breathlessly, "It's a once-in-a-lifetime chance."_

_In more ways than one. _

_Would he ever get another chance to be as close to Julia? … To anyone? _

"_Please, Jin?" she pleaded. _

_He smiled a little, with as much sincerity he could muster without allowing sadness to taint it. "All right, Jules. I'll come."_

"_Thank you. Thank you so much." _

Julia's eyes caught his. "Is… something wrong?"

"I'm the one who should be thanking you," he murmured.

"What… of course not, Jin. You came with me, against your will, and so I should be thanking you," she replied. He marveled at the way she made things sound so logical, so simple – as far from the way he saw it as was possible.

He shook his head. "You're doing this for me. You knew I was down, and you brought me here trying to cheer me up. Whether you admit it or not… thank you."

She smiled, and opened her mouth to speak, when suddenly, she looked up in the sky and pointed. "Look! There's one! Close your eyes and make a wish!"

_I don't have to._

He closed his eyes anyway, and wished that even if Julia was to be taken away from him, the memory of the magical night, the stars, the fire, and her beside him would always stay in his heart.

His dark eyes opened again, and saw the tail of the lone falling star disappear into the gray, dark night.

**_Author's Note: _**That's it, it's done. 'Til the next installment!


	3. New Beginnings

_**Twelve White Butterflies**_

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**Thank you to everyone who supports this ship, and especially this collection of Jin/Julia one-shots. Here's the third story: _New Beginnings._

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.

* * *

"_Maybe, just maybe… I can make her smile, for the first time in two years."_

_

* * *

**Three… New Beginnings**_

The young man closed the hotel room door, a small smile on his face. The colorful hood he hid behind did not cover his face enough, revealing to whoever looked the almost indiscernible display of happiness. His pace was quick and measured – the surprise would never work if he would be caught this early.

Luckily he reached the elevator and found it empty, descending the eleven floors to reach the lobby. He then walked to the receptionist, who took the key he held out, and he went out through the back door.

That day in the hotel had certainly drawn much notice to him, and attention was not something he enjoyed that much. But the glances, the curious stares – they were worth it, if all he'd planned would go well.

_Maybe, just maybe, _he thought to himself, _I can make her smile, for the first time in two years._

The thought was consolation enough.

* * *

Julia Chang set down her bags of groceries on the floor as she fumbled around in her bag for her hotel room key. She hadn't bought much – a few cans of soda and some snacks. She'd stayed in the hotel for the whole of the Iron Fist Tournament, and found it easier to eat out than to live off what she bought. 

But she wasn't supposed to think of the Iron Fist Tournament. It was the day before New Year's, and her next match wouldn't be until the next week.

She pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose as she picked up her bags again and unlocked the door. The homey cream color of the walls and the memory of the soft, queen-sized bed was welcoming, especially after a long day of groceries and bumper-to-bumper traffic. Hastily, almost carelessly, she put the cans of soda and her snacks in the small refrigerator in the room, and walked over to where the bed was.

She would have lay down to relieve her feet, but atop the white sheets was a bouquet of pastel colored flowers wrapped in a chiffon-like material, with an amethyst-tinsel ribbon.

Curiously she picked it up and propped it up on her arm, not as Miss Universe but as a young woman with a secret admirer. She recognized some of the flowers: roses, lilies, carnations… they were all beautifully arranged in a swath of lavender-pink chiffon.

She noticed a small yellow card peeping out from between the flowers, and gingerly she picked it up to read it.

_At eleven p.m., visit me at…

* * *

_

_32nd street…_

She peeked out from behind the taxi's tinted window and watched the Street 32 sign disappear as they sped through the Tokyo streets. Abruptly the car came to a halt, and the driver watched her expectantly. She paid him for the ride, and got out of the taxi.

It was dark, as one would expect at eleven-forty in the evening, especially on the last night of the year. She checked the card again, and looked at the townhouses in front of her. _Unit 3, _it read, and so she walked to the third door and knocked.

No one answered.

She opened the door, though, and found it unlocked. She entered cautiously, reminding herself that should something go wrong, she could always fight back. She was a warrior, not a damsel in distress. She could protect herself should things go awry. With this reassurance she closed the door behind her and started walking up the stairs.

"Hello?" she called out.

Of course there was no answer. _Meet me on the roof, _the note had said.

She reached the last step, only to find another flight of stairs. Patiently she walked back up the next three flights of stairs, until they led up to a closed door.

"Okay. This is it," she whispered to herself. She reached for the doorknob and opened the door.

She was greeted by soft candlelight and the smell of flowers. Potted shrubs lined up made a little pathway, until it led to a round table covered with white cloth. A candle was lit atop it, set with two chairs. A pair of crystal wine glasses filled with sparkling white wine were also set there, adding to its elegance.

Still, she was wary as she walked over to the table.

"It's all right, there's nothing to be afraid of. Sit down."

She wheeled around, ready to go into her fighting stance. She let out a confused laugh when she saw who it was. "Jin? What's all this about?"

He was handsome, as he always was – but the color of the moon and candlelight combined flattered his features more than anything. He looked more relaxed than usual, in a white button-down shirt and a pair of black pants. He smiled a little as he led her to the table, so close to the edge of the roof that they overlooked all of Tokyo.

"It's beautiful," she said sincerely, "But why?"

He smiled at her. "Neither of us has any family to go home to for the New Year, Julia. We're on our own. That's why I had you come here – so that both of us could have a special New Year."

"How'd you know I was going to come, then? I would've passed you off as Ganryu trying to hit on me again, and I wouldn't have come," she lied.

He managed a little laugh. "That's not how you think, Julia. A secret excites you, and you would have done almost anything to figure out who I was."

She thought for a while, and then asked, "How did you get into my hotel room?"

He shrugged. "The hotel is owned by the Mishima Zaibatsu. It's been two years, and the poor receptionist has no idea I don't consider myself a Mishima anymore."

Julia sat back against her seat, and she laughed liltingly. "I must look ridiculously overdressed to you." She'd worn a white blouse with a tan skirt, not really her usual choice of clothes.

"I think you look beautiful," he said quietly.

She gave him a skeptical look.

"And ridiculously overdressed," he added resignedly.

She grinned.

They looked up to the sky. The Tokyo fireworks display had just begun, and the sparks flew brightly out over the sky in beautiful colors. Each fanned out brilliantly, colorful against a dark blue sky devoid of stars.

Julia checked her watch, and it was just a half a minute away from twelve.

She looked at him with a smile on her face, and she was thankful she'd decided to come.

"Happy New Year, Jin," she whispered.

"Happy New Year."

**_Author's Note: _**Yeah… that was the longest. It's a bit OOC (or maybe a lot OOC), but please review. Thanks!


	4. For the Love of Chocolate

**_Twelve White Butterflies_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**All right! The fourth out of twelve! Anyway, here's story number four: _For the Love of Chocolate._

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.

* * *

"_I thought you could use something sweet today."_

_

* * *

**Four… For the Love of Chocolate**_

Jin punched the air, causing the nonexistent enemy to double over. He evaded its unseen attack and countered with an axe kick, finally putting to rest the demon that was not there.

If only his real battles were that easy.

He sighed as he walked away from the empty space on his townhouse rooftop that he had made his secret dojo. His plans for that day were simple: train from sunup until sundown, occasionally returning to the kitchen or the bathroom for his other necessities.

He didn't usually push himself this hard – he knew the importance of rest as well as training. But fighting was a way to take other things off his mind, and that day gave him a lot of memories he would much rather forget.

He went down the steps that led back into the main hall, and then to the kitchen. He yanked open the fridge door and grabbed a can of… he didn't remember the name of the energy drink, not that it was important. He popped it open, and downed it. With that he tossed the empty can into the trash bin beside the refrigerator and made to return to the roof.

… When the doorbell rang.

He almost never had guests, and he most especially didn't want to see anyone that day. Jin descended the steps anyway, if only to answer the door and vent all his frustrations at whoever disturbed his training – it was probably just a pesky door-to-door salesman anyway, so there would be no worries.

… Right?

He walked quickly to the front door, the incessant doorbell still ringing. He put on his best "get-the-hell-out-of-my-life" scowl and opened the door.

He couldn't bring himself to do as he had planned.

Standing in the doorway was a familiar young woman. Her long brown hair was in two braids, and she was wearing what was probably one of her favorite outfits: a brown shirt and a denim skirt, with a pair of boots. She looked uncertainly at him, and both her hands were behind her back as if hiding something from him.

Julia.

He hoped dearly she wouldn't remind him.

"Um… happy birthday?" she began with a little smile.

Shit. She remembered.

He didn't answer, and his face displayed a strange mixture of disgust, annoyance and gratefulness all at once. Julia's hazel eyes betrayed a shred of doubt, and she bit her lip as she asked, "Uh… can I come in? I wanted to give you something."

He held the door open for her, rather listlessly. He closed it and turned, just in time to see her walking quickly up the stairs, as if to hide from him whatever she brought with her.

If any of his past birthdays were any clue, it was a bomb.

_Hey, why not? _He thought wryly as he walked up the steps. _When I turned twenty my grandfather gave me a gunshot to the head._

He finally reached the top of the stairs, to the landing that led to the kitchen. He opened the door, and found her gingerly slicing a big, generous piece from the chocolate cake that now lay atop the table.

… Chocolate cake?

He approached her slowly, and she turned with the dessert plate and fork in her outstretched hand. "Have some, Jin. I had it specially made for you."

He chanced a look at the round cake blanketed in a rich chocolate brown frosting, now lacking a slice. Vanilla rosettes lined the circle, and on the center, in white glazing, _Happy birthday, Ji._

He looked down at the slice she'd given him. The missing letter "n" was there.

"Please eat it?" she asked.

He sat down and with his fork carved off a little of it. He cast a glance at Julia, who with doe eyes seemed ecstatic that he was actually going to eat it. He lifted it up to his lips, and wondered whether he could still drop the fork, beat Julia senseless for trying to get him to break his strict diet, and return to training.

No chance. He considered her too much of a friend. Besides, what harm could a silly little piece of chocolate cake do?

He took the first bite, and he was assailed by the lush, rich taste of the chocolate – the thick frosting was perfectly complemented by the light cake. It had been so long since he'd had anything sweet to eat that the first taste was almost addictive.

In fact, he hadn't eaten anything sweet in the past ten years. Before that, his mother was strict with what he ate, making sure that he grew up healthily. After his mother died he had abstained from everything that was sweet in order to keep himself in shape. The last time he'd ever eaten chocolate was when he sneaked it from his grandfather's refrigerator, after which he was spanked for disobeying Heihachi.

Jin looked back up at a smiling Julia, and smiled back. "It's great. Really great. But you didn't have to."

"Ah well… I thought you could use something sweet today."

For some reason, he found that comforting.

**_Author's Note: _**Poor little Jin, what a sweet-deprived kid. Please review!


	5. Fight or Flight

**_Twelve White Butterflies_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**Thank you to all of my sweet and not-so-sweet readers and/or reviewers! Here is the fifth story, _Fight or Flight._

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.

* * *

"_I made my choice – I left. Now I wonder if it was the right one."_

_

* * *

**Five… Fight or Flight**_

_How long can I keep running?_

_How long can I keep hiding?_

_It's not like what I run from is an enemy I can do battle with, and eventually knock out. This kind of opponent cannot be touched by punches and kicks. _

_The alley that night was dark. I had just come from the Iron Fist match that officially booted me out of the tournament, against Jin Kazama himself. My muscles were numb, and I couldn't even feel my legs. I wanted nothing more than to hurry back to my hotel room and collapse in bed, but I was too tired to even quicken my pace. _

_The only source of light was the row of flickering lamps on the street, and even they did not shed light on the five masked men who sneaked up behind me._

_The first grabbed me by the waist, while another pointed a gun to my head. The other three looked around, as if to make sure no one was going to come by and give me a miraculous rescue. _

_Fat chance, anyway. There weren't any buildings close by, except some ramshackle houses ready for demolition._

"_Give us all your money, lady!" the first screamed._

"_Give us your money or we'll shoot!" the second repeated._

_Clearly these muggers were amateurs, since their screaming wasn't something prudent to do, especially when the night was so quiet. Still, I was tired, and I couldn't beat them all up even if I wanted to. I might have if I was at full strength, but well… I wasn't._

"_I don't have any money!" I screamed back. It was a lie, but not a big one. I only had enough in my wallet for, say, a bus ride to the hotel, if the buses were still going at that time of night. The rest of my money was in my bank account, and I'd left my ATM card back at the hotel. No real danger… right?_

_The second lifted the gun, pointing to the space between my eyes, making me struggle all the more. I didn't want to be shot! _

"_You're lying!" he yelled. "Give us all your money, lady, and I mean now!"_

_What happened next transpired so quickly that I didn't quite catch every move. The gun was suddenly knocked out of the man's hand, and fell back a few feet. A quick backward glance told me that the other three were already on the ground, writhing in pain. The man who held me let me go, to fight… whoever my glorious savior was. _

_I fell to the ground, and looked up, trying to recognize the man who just helped me. But my vision was blurry, and he was moving with deathly speed, that it was close to impossible. _

_The speed… the intensity of the fight… she caught a blur of flames from the man's white pants and in a rush remembered the match she'd just lost._

"_Great," I remember mumbling, "I owe my life to the man who just kicked my ass."_

_By the time I was able to get back up on my feet, he had finished them off. I smiled at him, and said curtly, "Thank you for saving me."_

_With burning embarrassment I turned to leave. If I never saw his face again I would be eternally grateful to all the good spirits in the world._

"_Wait, Julia." I didn't turn back to look at him, but I could hear his slow, uneasy steps toward me. "I came because you dropped your necklace." I only looked at his outstretched hand, which held the pendant I must've dropped during the fight._

_I took it, mumbled another thank you, and started walking._

"_Julia!"_

_I froze._

"_Please," his voice was somewhat pleading, but I didn't trust my ears anymore. "Stay here. Stay with me."_

_I shook my head. "I'm sorry," my voice cracked, betraying the tears I'd kept hidden from him, "I can't."_

_And I walked away, leaving him there by the flickering streetlamps, surrounded by five unconscious men. _

Julia was close to tears as she remembered what had happened just a few nights before. She wondered if she could still get off the airplane to Arizona, run back into his arms and tell him how she really felt.

_No, _she vowed as the plane finally got off the ground and sped up into the air. _I've made my choice – I left. _

A small tear left the corner of her eye as she looked out the airplane window to the quickly shrinking landscape of Tokyo. _Now I wonder if it was the right one._

**_Author's Note: _**Please review this… does it seem too rushed? I mean, I just wrote all of this in one morning.


	6. Promise Kept

**_Twelve White Butterflies_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**Thanks for reading and reviewing! Now here's the sixth story, _Promise Kept. _This is rated for a bit of cussing but nothing too bad. Still pretty innocent.

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.

* * *

"_I promised. And whether you like it or not, I never go back on my word."

* * *

_

_**Six… Promise Kept**_

"Promise kept."

He tossed the small orange catalog envelope in front of her. It was tightly sealed, but she knew what it was. She bit her lip anxiously, and her hands fidgeted in her lap. She didn't look up at him, and instead averted her eyes.

"You didn't have to," she whispered.

His raptor gaze was hard, intense, unforgiving. He grit his teeth as he stared at the young woman in front of him, the girl who refused to receive what he had given her. "I made a promise. And whether you like it or not, I never go back on my word."

It was hot – there was a power interruption, and it was toasty inside the building without the air conditioning. He turned away from her, irritated that she didn't answer. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other things to do." He made to leave.

"Wait."

Her voice triggered a memory of not too long ago, when that very word came out of his own mouth, pleading her to stay.

"_What do I have to do, Julia, to prove myself to you? To let you know that I am no longer a Mishima, to let you know that I strive to be human?"_

_She turned to him, her voice filled with spite. "Human? Jin, think about it! You can't even try to be human. You're the son of the Devil himself, blessed that you are too the son of an angel. But human is not something you can be, feeling is not something you can do!"_

"_What is it you want?" his voice was unwavering, clear. Much unlike her frustrated stammer. "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."_

_She laughed liltingly, a chuckle of bitterness. "What do I want, Jin? I want you to overthrow your bastard grandfather and return to me the forest rejuvenation data he and his goddamn cronies stole. Maybe then I'll reconsider."_

"_Promise made," he murmured into the night._

He heard himself laugh, a wry chortle at the irony of it all.

_Who was pleading now, asking for another chance?_

"I… I'm sorry for what I said," she whispered. "I… realize now that… that I was wrong, that everything I said to you was silly and spiteful. You didn't have to do what I asked. You had every reason to ignore me."

"I couldn't ignore what you said," he replied, "I felt that somehow, I had to prove myself to you. I needed your trust, no matter what."

He turned to look at her. She was beautiful, as she always was – her delicately tanned skin, her long brown braids, and her honey brown eyes. Her usually cheery face was tear-stained and full of regret. He longed to reach out and wipe those tears away.

He held back. After what she said, he could not forgive her.

Instead, he turned and walked away. "But now, I don't really care anymore."

"I love you, Jin," he thought he heard her whisper.

**_Author's Note: _**Ouch. Talk about unhappy ending. Will you still review? Please?


	7. No Strings Attached

**_Twelve White Butterflies_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**Haha, seven down, five more to go. Here's number seven, _No Strings Attached. _A random fact: I came up with the idea while in church. Whoa…

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.

* * *

"_That's what love is. Limitless. Without boundaries."

* * *

_

_**Seven… No Strings Attached**_

_Where… am I?_

Julia knew something wasn't right. She'd just thought the three words that the damsel in distress usually says when she wakes up after being conked out. She wished she knew the answer to her own question, and save herself the humiliation of having to ask it.

_Anything, _she begged her mind, _Convince me that I'm at home in Arizona, waking up after a jet-lagged sleep. Tell me I'm back at the hotel, tired and weary from a match that went overboard. Anything, please…_

Her vision was blurry as she tried to lift herself up off the bed. Her knuckles cracked as she tried to lean on them, and her back was sore. Resignedly she slumped back against the pillow.

Calmly she lay there, her eyes open. Slowly, the blur she saw sharpened, and she let her eyes roam the room. The walls were white, and her bed was surrounded by a white curtain with little lavender polka dots. Her hair was let loose instead of in their usual braids, and so they fell in long curls behind her back. She looked down at her hand, and saw a small tube attached to the back of it, that led back to a bag of dextrose. Her whole left leg was wrapped in a cast, while the right was bandaged.

Her brow furrowed with confusion. What was she doing in the hospital? Why couldn't she remember?

Breaking her train of thought was a motherly nurse, who had pushed back the curtain. She seemed pleasantly surprised to find her awake. "Thank goodness!" she said with a wide smile, "The doctors were afraid for you, young lady. Would you like to sit up? I can help you."

"Yes, please," she replied. The nurse moved a lever attached to the bed and Julia felt herself move upward until she was in a sitting position. She smiled at the woman and said softly, "Thank you."

The nurse grinned, as she made sure the pillows were arranged comfortably. "It's all right, dear, we do it everyday. Is there anything you want?"

Julia thought for a while. "How long have I been here?"

"Why, you've been in and out of consciousness for three days already. This is the first time you've come awake for so long, though, so you're a really lucky girl," she said as she turned to the table by the bedside. "And your wounds! They were quite deep, dear, did you get into a fight or something?"

_Wounds…? A fight? What is she talking about? _She put her hand to the side of her head. _Why can't I remember?_

"It's such a good thing that young man brought you here when he did, sweetie, you would've been gone for sure… such a handsome boy, he was, was he your boyfriend? You barely see men like that anymore… and he's paying for your hospital bills, too, such a nice boy…" the nurse continued.

_Young man…?_

"Did you… did you catch his name?" she asked, hoping that the nurse knew, so that she might remember, too.

The woman looked up, and shook her head as she brushed away a few strands of red-orange hair. "No, sorry, dear."

Julia slumped back against the bed, not noticing she'd sat up when she'd asked.

She popped the lid off a bottle and took a pill from it. She handed it to Julia, with a glass of water. "Go back to sleep, child. You might remember when you wake up."

She took the pill, downed it with some water, and handed the glass back to the nurse. In no time at all, she was asleep.

* * *

"She woke up this morning, sir." 

"Really? What did she say?"

"She was asking about you."

"Did you tell her?"

"No. But she genuinely seemed to have forgotten everything that happened."

"She doesn't remember…"

The voices were distant, far away. She wanted to hear more, but she was still half-asleep. She knew she was going to drift back to sleep, but she couldn't let that happen. Both voices were familiar, and she struggled to listen in to the conversation.

"I suppose not, sir. She did have a pretty bad fall, as you said."

It was a woman's voice – and she remembered it from the nurse who'd been so nice to her that morning. Was it really just that morning? It seemed like ages ago.

If she could remember the nurse, why couldn't she remember what had happened three days ago?

"Do… do you think you could let me see her?"

It was a man's voice, perhaps the young man the nurse was talking about. His voice was so familiar, as if she'd been hearing it for years. Yet, she couldn't quite place it. There, right in front of her, was the memory of the man, and still she couldn't remember who it was. She put a hand to the side of her head, trying to stop the nagging feeling that she knew quite well who had saved her that night.

"Of course, sir."

The curtain was drawn back, bringing the blinding fluorescent light to her eyes. Instinctively she covered her eyes with her hand, until they finally became accustomed to the light. She let it rest by her side, and looked up.

The young man had been watching her for a while, she realized. He didn't smile, nor did he scowl. The look on his face was pure recognition, and it triggered a memory that had long been hidden from her.

_Her match had been against Bryan Fury, in the ruins of a temple far from the city. The match was over, and she surrendered, but the sadist continued to beat her down with a sick grin on his face. She was on the ground, trying in vain to deflect his merciless stomps, but she couldn't. She was on the edge of the terrace, and the fence that protected her from falling had long been taken by termites. _

_She gripped the end of the floor, fearful for her life. The fall wouldn't be fatal, but there would certainly be broken bones. Out of the corner of her eye she knew that the Tekken forces were moving to restrain Bryan, but they were still too far off. They would never get to her in time._

_And Jin, where was he? She knew he was watching._

_Bryan pulled out a dagger from his pocket, and with it made a long gash along her right leg. "Good night, little girl." As he pulled away the dagger he nudged her with his foot, until she fell from the ledge._

_Falling, with the anticipation of hitting the ground, was horrifying. She closed her eyes and prayed to the good spirits that she would somehow survive._

_She landed on her left leg, and felt the excruciating pain of dislocated joints and broken bones. "Julia!" the cry was far off, and the last thing she saw before she blacked out…_

… Was now staring her in the face.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she reached out towards Jin with one arm. It circled his neck and drew him close. He seemed surprised, but didn't move. "Thank you," she whispered.

She let go, and he managed a smile. "I promise I'll pay you back as soon as I get the money," she murmured.

"No."

"What?"

"I said, no. I already paid for your bills. Don't feel like you owe me anything."

"Why not?"

He smiled, and it was sincere. "Because that's what love is. Limitless. Without boundaries."

**_Author's Note: _**Wheee… summer's almost over for me, I'm so envious of the rest of you! I think I'm going to hate Chemistry… anyway, please review!


	8. A Home to Return to

**_Twelve White Butterflies_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**Wow, I'm more than halfway through! Amazing… anyway, this is story number eight, titled _A Home To Return To. _Please review!

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.

* * *

"_I don't want safety. I don't want protection. I want to spend all my days with you."

* * *

_

_**Eight… A Home To Return To**_

Jin swiveled his chair idly so that it turned to face the large rows of crystal tiles. Outside the rain was coming down in torrents. Thunder and lightning cleaved the gray sky, cutting it into two. He leaned back against his black leather chair, smiling at the irony of it all. He had vowed to kill his grandfather and end the curse of the Mishima bloodline, and now here he was, sitting in the very chair Heihachi had sat on only a few months before.

In the fluorescent light, he could almost see his reflection in the crystal, that of a young man in his prime, sitting on the chair that marked supremacy over all of the Mishima Zaibatsu. His suit, which had before seemed so itchy and uncomfortable, now fit like a second skin. He smirked at the easiness with which he accepted his new position.

"Master."

He turned his chair to find one of his bodyguards bow slightly. He raised his eyebrow to show he was listening. The man continued. "A very… wet Miss Julia Chang is here to see you, sir. How would you like to proceed?"

"Bring her here."

The man bowed again, and exited the majestic wooden doors. In a moment, he returned, ushering a shivering young woman into the room.

He suppressed his grin for until when they were alone.

Raidon wasn't joking when he'd said she was wet – in fact, the man barely ever joked at all. Julia was, from head to toe, covered in rainwater. Her braids were limp and her bangs clung to the sides of her head, the ends still dripping. Her denim jacket and jeans were matted with water and clung tightly to her skin. Her white leather boots were soaked, and probably beyond repair.

Her voice was shaking when she finally reached his desk. "You wanted to see me?"

"Ever heard of an umbrella?" he asked her.

She groaned. "It wasn't raining when I left, all right? What was it you wanted to tell me that couldn't be said over the phone?"

"A lot, actually. The first is, Julia, you're going to get sick."

She glared at him.

"But the reason I called you here is… because I would like to offer you some help with your Forest Rejuvenation project. There are a few of Mishima Zaibatsu's scientists based in America, and I could ask them to…"

She shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, Jin, but the project is nearing fruition. You would be hiring those scientists for nothing."

They were silent.

"Is there something else you'd like to tell me?" she asked finally.

_Yes._

_There are a thousand things I'd like to tell you._

_I just can't find the words._

"No," he mumbled.

She nodded.

"When will you be returning to Arizona?" he asked.

She looked up. "I… I don't know. I…" she looked into his eyes, and her gaze never wavered when she said, "I'm not sure I want to leave."

"Julia, we talked about this…"

She smiled sadly. "I know."

"You can't stay here. It's not safe. My grandfather's still out to reclaim the Zaibatsu, as are my father and my uncle. Everyone is trying to kill me, and for you to stay here would be bringing danger to you, too," he said, reiterating what he'd told her a few nights before.

He expected her to give the same answer she gave last time: a small grin, and a wry "good luck, then."

She didn't.

Once again, she did the exact opposite of what he'd expected her to do.

She stood, and sighed. "Jin, haven't you figured it out yet? I don't want safety. I don't want protection. I want to spend all my days with you."

He sat there, dumbstruck, as he stared up at the defiant girl before him. "Julia… you're going to be sick. What you need now is rest. Come on, I'll drive you to your hotel."

He'd said it, and he could see the crestfallen look on her face.

He had, once again, taken the coward's way out.

Jin brought her down the elevator and to the parking lot, where he asked his chauffer to drive both of them to Julia's hotel. The ride was silent, and he could feel the tension in the air. All throughout the drive, she didn't look at him once – her gaze was concentrated on the light droplets of rain falling on the car window.

Soon they reached the building, and she opened the door, said a harried "goodbye," and left.

Jin leaned back against the car seat as the limousine started to move. Yet again… he had made the wrong choice.

**_Author's Note: _**Waaah. Nuff said. Please review.


	9. Cold Summer Nights

**_Twelve White Butterflies_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**Number nine is here, and it's titled _Cold Summer Nights. _It's inspired by a song with the same title, but I don't know who sang it, sorry.

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.

* * *

_"I wish… that we could stay this close, forever."_

_

* * *

**Nine… Cold Summer Nights**_

He leaned back contentedly against the large, age-old oak tree and noticed, only barely, that she had fallen asleep. Her head was on his lap, and she was curled up much the way a cat sleeps. The stars had not come out that night, and the moon contented herself with the soft, gossamer clouds that had made themselves her companions.

He smiled as he reached for her hand, which lay at her side on the grass. He held her hand in his, feeling its warmth. He closed his eyes and let his fingertips travel her long, slender fingers and smooth palm.

His left eye opened just a little when his hand felt a little bump on the fourth finger of her right hand. It was a callus, a patch of skin hardened because of… too much writing, he presumed. She'd stayed up all of last night writing. She dedicated her whole life to her research, to her work. She needed this night of rest more than anything. She had earned her sleep.

He gently lay her hand back on the grass and tried to let her sleep peacefully. Soon, though, his hand found its way to her dark brown hair. He ran his hand through her long, slightly curled hair that he had seen so often kept braided neatly away from her face. That night, though, she had let it loose.

"Mmm…" she murmured softly.

He drew back his hand, wanting just to let her sleep but being unable to help himself, either. Her hazel eyes fluttered open sleepily, but a contented smile was on her face. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's all right," she whispered back, "I didn't mind."

Her voice was soft, gentle. Vaguely it reminded him of his mother's voice, so many years ago, coaxing him to return to sleep. But any memory of his mother was always so vague, so distant, but that night it was different. Her voice in his mind was clear, and he could remember the exact lilt her laugh took when she was ever so slightly upset, the exact tone she used when she scolded him, the sweet, rhythmic lullabies she sang him to sleep to…

The soft touch of her hand on his woke him from his reverie. He tilted his head a little, just to see her caress his hand gently. Her fingertips brushed his knuckles, and he felt himself smile. "What are you doing?" he asked, but it came out as a mumble.

"I'm trying to memorize the feel of your hands," she whispered.

He smiled. "I'll still be alive tomorrow."

"… Will I be?" she asked him. "And if I'll still be alive, who's to say we'd still be together?"

He sighed. It was a lovely night, and he didn't want to ruin it. He shushed her. "Don't think like that. I'll be here, you'll come meet me. It'll be the same the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that."

"Since when have you been optimistic?" she said with a sly grin.

He shook his head. "Just now. Just because you're here."

She closed her eyes, and for a moment he'd thought she'd gone back to sleep. He smiled again. To others, it was a rare sight on his face. But whenever he was with her, it seemed to perpetually be in place.

He reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. Her skin was warm, his hand cold. The feel of his skin on hers opened her eyes once more. Again, he withdrew his hand.

"No," she whispered, taking his hand and leading it back to her cheek. "I want to savor this moment."

He looked at her questioningly. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. "I wish… we could stay this close, forever."

**_Author's Note: _**A bit different from the other entries, I think. No names have been mentioned, but I don't think I have to say it. This is a JinJulia collection, after all. Please review.


	10. Cast It Away

**_Twelve White Butterflies_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**Here's the almost-there mark, story number ten… it's titled _Cast It Away, _and it focuses mostly on Julia's ending movie. Think you can review?

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will. I only own the unimportant Professor Carter.

* * *

_"Cast your heart to the wind. Now is not the time for silly fantasies."_

* * *

**_Ten… Cast It Away_**

"How is the experiment coming, Julia?"

The young woman hung her head in disappointment, not raising her eyes to meet the old man's gaze. "Not very well, Professor," she said, her voice not much more than a whisper, "We have monitored all the pods. No change has been observed."

He raised his eyebrows curiously. "I'm disappointed, to tell you frankly. Your mother is a good friend of mine and I know both of you are brilliant. What happened?"

"The Tournament distracted me, Sir…" she stammered, tugging lightly on her braids.

The man brushed it off as if she said nothing of importance. "The Iron Fist Tournament reached its conclusion three months ago. You retrieved your data and reanalyzed everything. Isn't three months enough for your plants to grow, Julia?"

"It is, Professor, but…"

Professor Carter's eyes softened, and he held up a hand to silence her. "It's about him, isn't it, child?"

She nodded meekly.

_"Julia, I can't stay. I have to go – the Devil is too dangerous," he said with a quiet, but no less disturbing, finality. "I don't want to put you at a needless risk."_

_She closed her eyes and stopped the tears from falling. "But… you will be back, right? You'll come back."_

_He looked away, and didn't answer._

_"Jin…" she whispered, "Will you be back? Tell me."_

_Their eyes met, and she knew._

_"I might not be able to come back," he replied._

_She averted her eyes, just so he wouldn't be able to see the tears welling up there. "You might not…" she said hoarsely, as if trying to let everything sink in._

_"I'm sorry. I should leave," he said, turning to walk away._

_"I'll wait for you," she said stubbornly._

_He took one last glance at her. "You'll be waiting forever," he answered sadly._

"Three months is long enough for a plant to sprout, but not long enough for a scar to heal," Professor Carter told her, cupping her cheek as a father would do to a daughter. "Julia, I did not want to tell you this, but the reason why your research is falling apart is because you have your sights set on something else."

She looked up at him. "What are you saying?"

"Cast your heart into the wind, at least until your research is over," he said, "Now is not the time for silly fantasies."

She nodded.

"Now go back to your work. Stop waiting. Start moving on," he added.

She nodded again, and turned to leave. She opened the door to the experimentation room, gazed lovingly at the pods which contained her hopes for her land. She fingered each as she passed them, until finally she reached the last one in the row.

A small, green sprout had appeared in the tuft of soil.

The tears that refused to come three months ago fell now. But she had cast her heart into the wind – she would start moving on.

**Author's Note: **Short, I know. But I still have a project to write up, and I have a three-day journalism seminar starting tomorrow… please review and make me happy.


	11. Medley for a Demon

**_Twelve White Butterflies_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**Ha ha ha… number eleven's here at last! Since number ten centered on Julia, I decided that this one should center on Jin. He seeks shelter with Xiao and Wang, but the latter decides that he must move on. It has Xiaoyin implications, so other people might not enjoy it that much.

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.

* * *

_"They say that if you've begun to memorize the songs of the birds, you've tarried too long."_

_

* * *

**Eleven… Medley for a Demon**_

There he sat, on the porch, as he had done for several weeks. The smooth, almost fragile balsa wood floor was cold but welcoming under his touch. The angle that the sunbeams took made it so that the light fell onto his face. But he no longer minded the blinding noonday sun. For him, it was welcome.

She sat there, beside him, as she had done for several weeks. The bright pink of her dress and the gaiety in her eyes contrasted his dark mood. She said nothing, scared, perhaps, that he might leave if she broke the silence. She was right, because he probably would have, and they both knew it.

Often she'd taken to leaning her head on his shoulder in an almost loving way. He let her. He was lonely, and she loved him. She was there for him.

He imagined that she felt happy and lighthearted. Happy that he was here, that she was sharing a part of herself with him, and that he seemed to accept it.

He felt selfish.

She was always there, giving to him, baring her soul before him. He had given nothing in return. He had always told himself he had no need to.

Months ago, he had sought help from the old man that was her grandfather. He was a strong man, if a bit addled, and was incredibly wise. He had agreed to shelter Jin, perhaps because he felt sorry for the demon child, or perhaps because his granddaughter prodded him into it. Either way, he had stayed for quite a while, and Xiaoyu was happy because of it.

Was he?

He looked out into the rolling hills, the lush green pastures, and could only bring one face to mind. Even though he had not seen her for the longest time, and even though he had no picture to remember her by, the image of her was clear in his mind, as if he had seen her every single day of his life. As if he knew, somehow, that she was always going to be there and that he would always be around her.

With all his heart, he wished he could have been.

But he was here, now, with Xiaoyu. She was happy, so by all rights he should be. Isn't that right?

He furrowed his brow, not quite sure what to understand.

One day, Xiaoyu had gone back to the city to buy something, and Wang walked up to him. Often the old man pretended he wasn't there, and it was all right by Jin. He had long taught himself that he never needed anyone.

If he knew that, then why did he feel this for her now? The gentle, subtle smile, the sympathetic hazel eyes, lips that mouthed those three little words that he had never had any courage to reply to…

"Is something wrong, young one? You seem distressed," the old man began, taking his seat beside Jin on the porch.

He didn't move. "Master Wang, I do not understand what is wrong myself."

The old man chuckled. "I think you do, young one."

He didn't reply.

"You know," said Wang as he cleared his throat, "There is an old Chinese proverb that says, 'If you begin to memorize the song of the birds, you've tarried too long.' Quite a wise man who thought it up, do you think so?"

Jin looked at him. "Who was it?"

"Wang Jinrey," laughed the old man.

The younger man nodded, deciding that the man was being addled as usual. But Wang didn't let him go that easily. "You're hurting them, do you know that, son?"

"Hurting… who?" he asked sharply.

"Them," he continued, "You're hurting my granddaughter because she knows it's not her you want. She cries herself to sleep each night because she knows she can't have you. And you're hurting that other girl, whoever she is, by making her wait so long for you."

Jin's eyes remained on the ground. "I can't go back."

"Can you not, son?" Wang asked, "Can you not? Which is the wiser decision, to stay until four hearts are completely broken, or to leave and fulfill your wishes?"

"Four? Xiaoyu, me…" he faltered at the name, and settled instead for, "Her…"

"And me," the older man said through crinkled eyes. "Xiaoyu is all I have, and it hurts me so to see her so unhappy."

Jin nodded. "I'm very sorry."

"I never blamed you, son. I only mean to say that by staying away, you might cause more hurt than that which you wanted to avoid…"

He stood, nodded to the old man, and left his place on the porch. Wang, too, upped and left.

A few moments later, Jin laid a letter on the porch where he and Xiaoyu had sat so often, took one last glance at the little house, and turned his back.

**_Author's Note: _**It's probably the least JinJulia-ish of all the oneshots (notice that Julia is never mentioned in the whole thing, only implied), but I've got absolutely nothing at the moment. Please review!


	12. Twelve White Butterflies

_**Twelve White Butterflies**_

_**Yugao**_

_**Author's Note: **_The last one… sorry this took so long. Heck, it's probably been a century since I last opened this, but one night, sometime after I graduated from high school, I was doing a cleanout of my files on my laptop, and I came across my fanfiction stuff again. I just want to set things right and finish all my incomplete stories. I know that in the Tekken section, that would be a **lot, **but I'm willing to work on it for the two-odd months I'm free. I know that it might sound plastic and insincere, but I want to keep this account going. Work with me here. Love you, honeys.

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Tekken.

"_There you go – twelve white butterflies."_

_**Twelve… Twelve White Butterflies**_

The fact that Julia knew he was planning something didn't make it any easier for her to bear.

After all, there was no real reason that Jin should be avoiding her, if that was really what he was doing. She had returned to Japan a few months ago for the fifth Iron Fist tournament, when she had unexpectedly met up with some old friends – and by friends, of course, that meant Jin was included. She wasn't sure why, then or even now. He had never been particularly close to her during the third tournament, though an awkward _konnichiwa _had always been in order whenever they bumped into each other. She couldn't help natural politeness, could she?

It wasn't natural politeness for very long, anyway. During the fourth tournament, she was actually forced to fight him in one of the matches, and though she lost (she kept telling herself, "big surprise there, huh Jules?" over drinks to comfort herself from her failure), he went beyond the average _konbanwa _and made conversation in whatever English he knew. It was sad, in a way, but very endearing as well. Who could resist a guy struggling to speak a language he barely knew for you?

Don't answer that question.

In any event, they got closer, went even to the point of calling each other good friends. It was inevitable, though, that they were split up at the end of the fourth tournament, putting their friendship on hold for the moment. Besides, there were more important things in their lives. She had her forest rejuvenation project; he had his soul-searching revenge-seeking dilemma. See? Way more important.

The news of the fifth tournament, however, had Julia hopping on the first flight out to Tokyo not only because her project had failed miserably and she needed the Mishima Zaibatsu's data on it, but also because she thought – and perhaps, thought quite rightly – that the friend she made last time around would still be there, and would still remember her.

Luckily, he did.

Recently, though, he hadn't made his presence felt at all. Every time she would see him across the street, he would pretend (he was a horrible actor, by the way, and had no place in Hollywood _at all_.) he didn't see her and would turn the other way and do something ridiculous like buy a banana cream pie just to cover up his ignoring her. Whenever she would go look for him, he was always out, or pretending to be out anyway, even though she could hear him talking to someone else on the phone from the adjacent room. Calmly she would excuse herself and leave, wondering exactly what she had done to deserve any of this.

Still, she knew that he didn't become like this for no reason at all. He was a sensible person, she'd found that out at the beginning of the fourth tournament. It would stand to reason, said her logical mind, that he was either making up some twisted diabolical plot to have his revenge once and for all and simply had no time for anything else, or he was plotting something she had absolutely no idea about.

Truth be told, all of the above scared her to the core.

She could hardly concentrate as she sat there in the laboratory, checking off some tasks that needed to be done for the new experiment they were testing out, when all of a sudden her mobile phone buzzed. She was welcoming the distraction, so she flipped it open and checked – it was a message, from an unregistered number. What really didn't register was the message itself.

_Take a cab and go to this address._

Listed next was an address, with the street and even the lot number. Curiously, she opened up her computer and looked it up on Tokyo maps – it was apparently just a zoo. Perfectly harmless place for a stalker or a murderer to want to meet up with a victim, right? And whatever happened, she was certain she could hold her own.

Even she needed to do something completely reckless once in a while.

But first she needed to be sure. After all, she couldn't just jump in. Tempted, she replied with, _Why should I? _ She looked back at her computer screen and opened the files she still needed to complete, the data she needed to fill in. She was tired. Everything was on her mind and failure was encroaching on her once peaceful thoughts. Not for the first time, she felt the burden of the whole project weigh down on her. She knew this was what she wanted. Hell, this was what she had been working for since she was eighteen. This wasn't something she could just abandon even if she wanted to, and she knew she didn't.

She just needed to rest, that was all.

_Trust me._

Julia smirked. She might be optimistic about her homeland and its progress with reforestation, but she wasn't a naïve little eighteen-year-old anymore. She was a realist in every other aspect of life, and she didn't go around trusting anonymous people who just expected her to fall for every little thing they asked of her.

_And if I say no? _Ever the skeptic, and yet ever the spirited one, she challenged him.

_I know you can't, _the reply came almost instantly. _You're too curious to stay away._

She stopped, because she knew that what he said was true. Her mother had always said that her curiosity would someday be the death of her, and obviously whoever this was knew her well enough to know that she just couldn't, wouldn't stay away.

_Who are you?_

She never got a reply, but that wasn't important. She was already out the door and hailing a taxi outside the laboratory, her heart racing at the thought - no, the hunch really - that she knew who her anonymous caller was.

* * *

"There you are… twelve white butterflies."

She turned around, a rueful smile on her face at the recognition of that voice. "I thought you weren't talking to me," she said quietly as she watched the butterflies swirl in a dizzying circle above her head. The exact part of the zoo she had been led to was the butterfly farm, this little dome of which was the home of twelve white butterflies of all sizes. She had never seen anything so beautiful before.

"I wasn't," he said, a serious look on his face, as per usual. "I was afraid I'd spoil the surprise."

She shrugged. "What does all this mean?" she asked, curious once more.

"There's one white butterfly for every month you were in America," he said thoughtfully, but his warm brown eyes weren't on her. They were focused on the magnificent creatures that spiraled around the dome they were in. "For every month we fell out of touch, and for every month I was wondering if you were all right?"

Julia laughed. "You did all this because you were worried about me?"

"No," he said finally, "I did all this because I hoped you would come back."

_**Author's Note: **_Blah, I know. What really fell out of touch was my writing, and I'm sorry. This finally complete, I can work on the other stories I'd neglected a chapter in, haha. No real need to review, it was just personal gratification – but if you'd want to leave one, then by all means! Go right ahead.


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